


Reconcilliation

by Measured_Words



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - Fandom, Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game), Thirteen (game)
Genre: Exes, F/M, Family, Hope, Intimacy, Mental Instability, Recovery, Sanity Loss, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 18:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10724949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/pseuds/Measured_Words
Summary: Kawisenhawe decides to talk to her ex-husband on the occasion of his sister's wedding.





	Reconcilliation

A wedding in the village between two other clans was usually no more than a mild point of interest. But this was a little different, both politically and, to some extent, personally to Kawisenhawe. Joanna Tekeniehnita was marrying a Senecomecan warrior, yes, but they were marrying here, and that was interesting. Joanna was also Kawisenhawe’s ex-husband’s sister, and so the event piqued her particular curiosity. She had a much older brother who provided an excuse to attend, though the Turtles weren’t being particularly exclusive.

She hadn’t intended to draw attention to herself, but realized that despite being on friendly terms with a number of the women her age, she had still rejected one of their own as her husband. It happened – it had been her right, and she didn’t owe them any explanation, but she still remained aware of the number of appraising, or at least curious looks, mostly from the older women. No one said anything to her face. They could judge her if they liked – she thought the blame lay partly at their feet. 

Of course Kahonstionekha was there. She couldn’t remember the last time Joanna had come to visit her family without him. She’d spoken to him earlier, just a few casual pleasantries, but he stood forward after their grandmother had given Joanna and her husband the clan’s blessing, which seemed to surprise even his sister. “Sister, you once told me that in a good marriage, one could hope for contentment, and to take comfort in one another. I hope you and your husband will find that with each other.” 

He was talking about their wedding, which had taken place in her clan’s longhouse almost four years before… She felt cold, despite the warmth of the fires and the press of bodies filling in the spaces. They hadn’t lasted two seasons together. She didn’t usually dwell on it, but perhaps the atmosphere was affecting her. There was tension and wariness and uncertainty in the air here, as much as jubilation – this was an important union with implications for the clan, the village, the Sategat; even the confederacy. There had been an undercurrent of tension at her wedding too, though she hadn’t understood it at the time.

Kawisenhawe closed her eyes, shutting out the celebration around her for a moment and looking inward. She had come here curious, but she hadn’t expected the emotions that Joanna’s wedding had stirred up. If she was being honest, she had to admit that her curiosity extended beyond the wedding. She’d seen Kahonstionekha around the village earlier that winter too, and had wondered. He seemed more comfortable, more whole, than at any point during their marriage. The other emotions – defensiveness, a vague sense of guilt – they too, extended beyond the evening, though she’d kept them hidden from herself. She could hear the voice of her aunt chiding her, telling her that it was bad for the spirit.

She waited until the couple had been ushered off to the bedding, guessing correctly that Kahonstionekha would not be among the group providing “encouragement” to Joanna and her new husband. Several other couples among the Turtles had broken away as well, but before she gave much consideration to her timing, or her intentions, he had already looked up from the small group of other unattached young men he’d been talking to and noticed her. He seemed surprised and perhaps understandably wary, his brow furrowing slightly. One of the other men – a cousin of his, she believed – leered and punched him in the arm, leaning in to say something that she couldn’t hear and probably didn’t want to. Kahonstionekha looked more annoyed than anything, and stepped her way. She tried to look reassuring.

“Kawisenhawe,” he said once he’d disentangled himself and met her part way. One of the dogs he’d brought home with him in the fall, the bitch, seemed to appear at his side from nowhere. “Were you looking for me?”

“Yes.” She felt her heart racing suddenly – she wasn’t exactly she what she wanted to, or should say. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

He nodded, listening. “All right.”

She looked around at the crowded hall and hesitated. Partly it was not knowing how to start, and partly it was the intense lack of privacy. Kawisenhawe imagined his grandmother’s sharp eyes on them, and even reassuring herself that the elder was probably occupied more with Joanna, it was hard to ignore that she was surrounded by his family. If it were spring or summer she could suggest a walk in the fields or the woods nearby, but that was an extreme undertaking in the winter. Kahonstionekha seemed to understand though, looking around as well. Kawisenhawe followed when he headed over to one of the family compartments – probably belonging to one of his aunts, though she wasn’t sure, and evicted its lone occupant. The youth skipped away with minimal grumbling, leaving them relatively alone. Someone had hung a heavy winter cloak from the storage shelf, and thick mammoth pelts covered the communal bunk and the longhouse wall behind them, muffling the sounds of the celebration beyond.

Kahonstionekha sat at the far end, his back against the partition, and she leaned up against the wall. Anyone walking by could easily see that they were talking and anyone other than the partition’s adult occupants would likely leave them alone to do so. She just had to sort out what she wanted to say.

“You seem well,” she said finally. It sounded bland, as far as observations or excuses to talk went. But that was at the heart of her unease, and she hoped he would understand. She waited, knowing that if he was slow to answer, it was because he was considering his answer. 

“There are many things I have had to learn to live with. Maybe that allows me to ‘seem’ well.”

“If that’s true,” she countered, “maybe you aren’t giving yourself enough credit. That’s difficult to do.”

“Sometimes it is easy enough.” He looked at her pointedly. “But not always.”

Kawisenhawe nodded, but she wasn’t sure she understood. “What about now?” She wasn’t sure herself if she meant this conversation, or this night, or this winter. He had seemed more relaxed the longer he was home, certainly.

Kahonstionekha was quiet and reserved, but as much as he tried to present a stoic face, he was not very good at masking his feelings. They washed across him now for her to read – suspicion, confusion, despair. She watched them all get swallowed by a weary resignation at odds with the spirit of celebration beyond the bunk. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because….my spirit is troubled.”

“Over me?” He seemed genuinely surprised, and shook his head. “Kawisenhawe… No. You made the right choice.”

She should have felt relieved at his firm, if gentle, conviction. Maybe it had been too long since she’d been disturbed from her meditation by his cries and violent dreams, his refusal to eat anything she prepared, and then to speak to her…. Ahhh. She frowned, thinking. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think so – that you weren’t ready, that the elders were wrong. Sometimes I think I wasn’t patient enough, and that I didn’t try hard enough to help you. I let you close me out.”

He shook his head. “There wasn’t anything you could do.”

“I don’t think I believe that.” She reached over and took his hand; he didn’t stop her, though he still seemed perplexed. That was fine, she wasn’t really making sense to herself, either. “You say that you aren’t better, and maybe that’s true. I don’t know.” I don’t know you, she’d almost said. “But if you’ve had to learn to … as you said, to live with things. To manage. When I see what you have managed for yourself, it makes me sad to think you had to do even so much on your own. And to think of what further healing – whether you see it that way or not – you could have achieved with help.”

“You don’t understand.” He shook his head again, and this time she gave him time to speak. “There are things I don’t believe a spirit can heal. They wear at you. They mark you.”

Once, when she’d roused him out of some disturbing dream-vision, she’d managed to pry out some details: something about a drum, about the heart of the earth beating out of rhythm. She thought she’d been making progress, and tried to reassure him that it was a false vision. He’d snapped back that she was wrong. That it was real, he could hear it, that it was haunting him…. It was the most clearly she’d seen the sickness in him, and it had been frightening. After that, he’d shut down until she’d left him alone. He had apologized later, saying that she shouldn’t have had to see that. The elders had been little help when she’d asked, and shortly after that, she’d turned him away. “I remember,” she said now. “But how much more easily can they wear down a man alone?”

“I’m not alone. I have Joanna…”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, watching the thoughts pass across his face. Joanna was married now, by her own choice.

“Her spirit is stronger than mine. She bears these things better – she can share her life, with less risk of it poisoning her husband.”

Kawisenhawe wasn’t sure he really believed that, but there was another point to be pressed that was more surprising. “So – you’re protecting me? Is that what you think?”

“Not just you. The kinds of evil I have seen…. There is a price to pay for even facing it. But someone has to, and I’m already marked.”

She knew he believed what he was saying though it sounded foolish. Defeatist. But he was so certain… Maybe there was some truth in it, she considered. He was a warrior – or course he would accept it was his place to fight, if he saw a threat to their people. He could be delusional, or he could still be spirit sick, as she had believed before. Either way – what did she want? What was she trying to convince him, or herself, of? He hadn’t taken his hand away from hers, and she looked down at where they were joined as she thought.

Did she just want to face a failure, to understand where things had gone wrong, or did she want him back? Even if the point was moot – she didn’t think he would agree to it – she wanted to understand her own heart. She could easily find another husband who was less trouble, and she didn’t owe Kahonstionekha anything. He had his sister, his grandmother and aunts. He didn’t need her. But she couldn’t just let him go. They had shared a life – and a bed – for a time, and maybe he had already left his mark, whether he’d meant to or not.

“I understand that you are afraid, and you’re right that I don’t really understand. You won’t tell me. But I know enough. I know that if this burden you’ve chosen is so great – the closer you hold it to yourself, and the more you place it between yourself and others, the sooner it will crush you, Kahonstionekha. That doesn’t have to be something you just accept.” She moved closer, deciding what she wanted then.

“I don’t know if I could be your wife again, even if you wanted that. But I do care for you, and I don’t want to see your spirit broken if there is something I can do. For now…” she smiled, leaning against him, “maybe that is offering some simpler comfort.”

He seemed surprised again, though not disinclined when she kissed him. At least, he seemed more present now than when they had been married, and she hoped that would lead to a more enjoyable experience for both of them. She wasn’t wrong.

When they were through, sticky with sweat and tangled together on the furs, he brushed her thick black hair behind her ear, his eyes locked on hers. “Kawisenhawe,” he said, still somewhat breathless, “thank you. But please – tell me you will let this go. It’s not good for you.”

“I promise,” she replied, fingers idly tracing the familiar tattoos on his chest, “that I will weigh that option as well.” Maybe that would be for the best, and this was all she had to give. He would be heading back south again soon to serve another term with the militia, and she doubted he would be back again before the summer, if then. By then, she hoped, she would have found a clearer path.

Kahonstionekha nodded, and when they were both a little more recovered, he helped her put her dress back on. Once dressed, she slipped out of the fur curtain, past the dogs lying before the compartment like lazy sentries, and past the remaining revelers drinking, singing and dancing around the other fires, towards home – to meditate and think.


End file.
